


Take My Faith In Your Hands

by Ren



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren/pseuds/Ren
Summary: "I thought you said we were just sleeping tonight," Sara says, but she doesn't swat Mila's hand away. Her violet eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For yoiweek2017, Day 2: Still Alive (prompt Ladies Appreciation)
> 
> Interrupting the Otayuri spam because Sara/Mila ~~Milara? Salami? lol~~ needs more love.

When Mila gets of of the shower, wearing the boxers and tank top that she uses as pajamas, Sara is already sprawled on the bed. She's lying flat on her stomach with her long legs kicking idly in the air as she scrolls through her phone.

"Texting your brother again?"

Mila nudges Sara and she scoots aside to make space. The room is a single, so the bed is somewhat too small for two tall women, but Mila doesn't mind. It gives her an excuse to snuggle closer to Sara.

"I've told him to go to sleep," Sara says, in the fond-but-exasperated tone that she uses only for Michele. "It's already past midnight in Italy."

Yeah, Mila thinks, glancing at the phone screen: that's her brother for sure. Aside from the texts in Italian that she can't read, there's a bunch of hearts and kissy emojis. Not even Mila sends Sara kissy emojis, and they've been dating for months.

"Is he still upset because he didn't qualify? I was sorry to see he missed the cutoff, he had such a good short program…"

" _Quello scemo_ ," Sara mutters, tapping on the keyboard in such a frenzy that the oversized blue t-shirt that she's using as a nightgown slips down one shoulder. "Now he's telling me not to go out with men and to get plenty of sleep." She scoffs.

Mila ducks her head and places a butterfly kiss on Sara's shoulder. "You're _definitely_ not out with men," she says, and there's amusement in her voice. "So you still haven't told him?"

Sara sighs and turns off her phone's screen before tossing it aside. "Not yet. I want to, it's just that…" She shrugs her shoulders in an expressive gesture before rolling on her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm going to tell him soon. I promise."

Mila stretches next to her, propping her head on one arm. "I didn't mean to rush you. I know how important he is to you, so take all the time you need, okay?"

She nods, scooting closer, and Mila throws one arm around her. "It's not that I'm worried about Michele's reaction," Sara mutters. "He acts like an idiot sometimes but he has a good heart and he loves me. It's just, I know he's going to tell my parents, and I don't know what _they_ will say. My family is very conservative."

Mila never knows how to reply to that, so she just leans forward to kiss Sara, softly. "No sad thoughts tonight," she murmurs against her lips. "It's one of the few rare nights we can spend together, we should make the most of it." Her hand strays down and starts toying with the hem of the shirt, which is just long enough to skim Sara's thighs.

"I thought you said we were just sleeping tonight," Sara says, but she doesn't swat Mila's hand away. Her violet eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles.

"I know." Mila's hand runs up Sara's thigh until she reaches the elastic of Sara's panties. "But I forgot how cute you are."

That's a lie: there's no way Mila could forget, even without all the selfies that Sara posts daily on Instagram and Twitter. Even now that they're alone, Mila is still too embarrassed to tell her girlfriend that she missed her.

She's always been bad at talking about her feelings, but somehow Sara manages to read between the lines. Sara wraps her arms around Mila's shoulders and pulls her in for a kiss, long and slow. She tastes like Mila's toothpaste. Mila's heart does a little flip.

"We should sleep," Sara sighs when they pull apart, but her arms are still wrapped around Mila.

Mila hums in agreement but she leans down for another kiss instead. Her fingers brush over the front of Sara's panties.

"Mila!" Sara exclaims in mock-outrage. Her breath hitches as Mila touches her through the thin fabric. "We can't do this before a big competition…"

"The competition is two days from now," Mila points out. Her palm cups Sara's mound as two fingers slid inside her folds. "And I promise I won't do anything to strain your muscles." Or hers, for that matter. Mila is not a fool.

Sara bites down on her lower lip as Mila's fingers keep teasing her. Mila can already feel Sara's wetness through her panties. She nudges Sara's knee and Sara opens her legs wider. Her shirt slides down, exposing pink panties with tiny polka dots.

Mila rolls over Sara, propping herself up on one arm as the other strokes Sara through her underwear. "Do you ever to this to yourself?" she asks, voice low and husky. "When you're in bed, and you can't sleep, and you're thinking of me…"

Sara's breath catches in her throat as Mila's thumb brushes over her clit. Her hips stutter and she presses herself against Mila's hand. "I-I don't."

"Why?" Mila's tone is surprised. "It's such a nice way to relax after a long day. Do you mean you never…"

Her fingers almost slide past the elastic of the panties, teasing, stroking the soft skin at the seam between hip and thigh.

Sara exhales. "J-just sometimes." She is blushing so much that it's visible even under her tan. Mila has to lean close to catch the next few words. "Sometimes, when… In the shower… But it's embarrassing."

"It's not." She can imagine it too well: Sara standing under the spray of water, her fingers sliding down to touch herself, slick with soap. "One day I want to watch you do that."

Sara closes her eyes tight, blushing furiously.

Mila teases Sara's panties aside. Even though Mila has barely started to touch her, she's already so wet. Mila slides one finger inside and Sara lets out a shaky breath.

"Mila," she whispers, opening her eyes to look up at her. She pulls Mila into a kiss as Mila starts stroking her, slowly.

"Does it feel good?" Mila whispers back. She adds a second finger, pressing against Sara's clit with her palm at every stroke, and Sara moans.

" _S-sì_ ," Sara stammers. One of her hands tangles in Mila's hair, the other is clenched in the sheets. "There, yes… Mila…"

Mila shifts, pushing up Sara's shirt to expose her breasts, and places a kiss on one dark nipple. Inside, Sara is so hot and wet. Mila can hear the sound her fingers make as they slide rhythmically in and out, pushing against Sara's inner walls. Mila traces the circle of Sara's nipple with her tongue, feeling the other girl tremble against her.

"Sara," she murmurs against her skin. When she takes one nipple between her lips and sucks gently, she can feel Sara contract around her fingers.

Sara lets out a moan and words in rapid Italian that Mila can't understand, but the hand on the back of her head is definitely urging her on. Mila shifts, settling between Sara's knees, fingers moving faster. She trails a path of kisses down Sara's ribcage, on her belly button, on the sharp ridge of her hip bone.

When Mila slides further down, Sara lifts her head, eyes wide. "Ah, don't! That's– that's dirty–"

Mila ignores her, leaning down to lick at her seam. Sara's head falls back on the pillow with a thump and she lets out a strangled moan. From her reaction, Mila guesses that nobody has ever done this to her, which is a pity because she is magnificent.

Mila pushes her tongue next to her fingers, lapping at Sara's folds. When she teases her clit with the tip of her tongue, Sara lets out the most delicious moans.

"Mila, _dio_ –" Sara chokes out, her back almost arching off the bed as she tries to push her hips against Mila's touch. "That– like that, ah! Yes!"

She's so beautiful when she loses control and forgets to be embarrassed. It's like when she's skating and she loses herself in the music, but _that_ is a show for the whole world. This is just for Mila. Sometimes, Mila still can't believe that she's the one who can turn cool, elegant Sara into a trembling mess asking for release.

There's no need for Sara to ask, though. Mila is more than happy to give her everything. She twists her wrist, until it's bent so much it almost hurts, but now every stroke of her fingers is deeper and hits that spot inside of Sara that makes her cry out loud. Mila's tongue moves together with her hand, lapping, teasing, sliding inside and out.

Sara's breath gets faster, rougher, until she tenses under Mila and calls out her name as she comes. Mila places one last kiss over Sara's hip as she finishes stroking her, slow and languid.

Her other hand is already pushing down her boxers. She leans her forehead against Sara's stomach as she slides her fingers inside herself, breath hitching at the feeling. Sara pulls Mila up for a messy kiss, mindless of the fact that she's tasting herself on Mila's lips.

Mila is already so close, she could come just from kissing, from the way Sara is looking up at her from between her eyelids. She shift her stance, widening her knees for better access, moving her fingers roughly and artlessly.

Sara's hand slides down to join Mila, and Mila grinds down against her palm, and then suddenly she's coming. Mila shudders and squeezes her eyes shut, almost crashing down on top of Sara.

Sara wraps one arm around Mila's shoulders, holding her close while they both catch their breath.

"That… that was…" Sara sighs, snuggling against Mila. She stifles a yawn.

Mila barely manages to pull up her pants, her movements sluggish. "люблю тебя," she murmurs, brushing a kiss to the corner of Sara's mouth.

"Mh? What was that?" Sara asks, but Mila is already falling asleep.


End file.
